


At the Wedding

by imaginary_golux



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-29
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco isn't sure why he was invited, or why he came.  Luna makes him welcome.  Written for Porn Battle X.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Wedding

Draco's not sure why he was even invited to the wedding, except that perhaps the triumphant Gryffindors wanted to rub his defeat into his face; he's really not sure why he accepted the invitation, except that the Manor is cold and lonely, and his parents are in mourning for their relatives, their cause, their way of life, and he needed to get out, even for an hour, even at the cost of sitting here watching the Weaslette marry the Golden Boy.

When the ceremony is over - it's surprisingly un-tacky, he thinks, and then carefully does not think about what a Malfoy wedding might have been like, because very few women would be willing to marry a Malfoy right now, and even fewer of them would do anything but further ruin his family's reputation - when the ceremony is over, he follows the crowd to the reception hall and joins the line for food, behind the Lovegood girl. He'd've thought she'd have had a partner, but she's apparently here alone, and to his shock she turns and smiles at him, and says, "Would you sit with me?"

He agrees, mostly because he is surprised, and they have an astonishingly enjoyable conversation over dinner - she chatters on about imaginary creatures, and he carefully does not say anything meanspirited, because the horde of Weasleys is itching for a chance to pound him to a pulp. When dinner is over, she pulls him out onto the dance floor, and he follows her in a sort of daze, astonished and pleased enough to ignore the malicious whispers behind him.

When she pulls him off the dance floor and into the garden, leading him into a tangle of bushes that guarantees privacy, he decides not to try to understand anything, because she is inexplicable. But her breasts are warm under his hands when she clasps them to her, and her lips are warm against his when she kisses him, and he gives in gratefully to lust and pleasure. He has just enough sense left to make sure she enjoys it too - stroking between her legs with cold, perfectly manicured fingers until she cries out and convulses once, twice, again, before he settles himself between her legs and thrusts home. She meets him thrust for thrust, encouraging him with hands and mouth and low cries of joy, until he is spent and limp atop her, inside her. Then she laughs, and kisses him, and says, "Thank you."

He thanks her back, of course - he has manners - and helps her put her dress back to rights, casting cleaning spells with careful gestures. She leads him out of the thicket and back onto the dance floor, and he discovers suddenly that he is happy.


End file.
